The street was cold for August in Drighlington England. A half a dozen cloaked people were outside the small street of Driftholme. The leader of the group was dressed in a rich dark purple cloak that was hooded. Everything about this woman was graying slowly, becoming less noticeable. Except her eyes, they looked at the group with a clear blue iciness. All of Deathina followers were dressed in black cloaks. They looked as if they were ready for an assignation mission; which is exactly what they were doing.

"Are you sure this is the right street?" A low voiced man named Keglovits asked. His dark cloak hiding him in the shadows, the hood protecting his face that was riddled with uncertianty

"Very well. Are you sure it is house number three though?" came a dark whisper from Mrs. Nicholson. He was always the calm and rational one when no one else was; making him a very effective dark leader

"Yes you blundering idiots!" Ms. Lombardelli said in a near yell full of venom.

"Settle down now all of you." A woman with a rather husky dreamlike voice said. "We don't want to be seen now do we?" She continued; her voice was like a trance to her followers.

"No my Miss." They all said in eerie unison.

"Good, very good." Deathina said in a hiss like tone. The leader of them all was as pale and creamy complected as a ghost, her bright but empty blue eyes helping the affect along; her hair looked as black as death could look for the twisted souls all line up in the small town street. "Wait here quietly. Once we are finished here- Then we can celebrate our new world order."

"Dear Maiden of the night let me assist you." her second in command asked.

"No. I must do this alone. Stay here." She snapped at him.

The man nodded in understanding as the leader left the pack walking into the third house on Driftholme Street. The group slowly edged more and more toward the house where the Keith's lived. They were the ones Deathina wished to destroy. The Keith's small innocent three year old was apparently going to lead to the Wicked Warriors destruction. None of the Warriors bought it but they knew better then to cross Deathina, especially for one child. By this time they were edging closer to the door just as Deathina was passing in. Everyone was eerily calm except for Parkinson; he was the newest joining Wicked Warrior barely and adult of eighteen. He was very twitchy and seemed to be pacing, it took him twenty seconds to do something that would change everyone's lives. He ran up to the porch and threw a wizard bomb down. He simply yelled "Down with Death!" He then flashed himself out as the house blew up. Taking the Wicked's once great leader alongside; or did it?

The Freedom Flyers were the only group that fought the Wicked Warriors. The caused seemed to be lost; until that night. The leaders of the diminishing group to end evil flashed to the house as soon as they were told about the catastrophy.

Avery Tomas was still at the scene when he met the old man, "Headmaster Maddock." The tall young man said, his robes were singed at the explosion.

"Ah yes Avery. Terrible times these are."

"It was Parkinson sir- just like you said it would be. It's just a shame the Keith's had to die."

"They didn't all die." The old man said quietly, he looked like Merlin himself in his pale blue robes.

"W-what?" Avery asked.

"The little girl, I can sense her magic: can you go retrieve her please?"

Tomas nodded and ran into the rubble.

"What is your plan?" Holly Grant asked quietly; she looked as old as the headmaster did.

"I will let you know in good time my dear friend." he said with a twinkle in his pale eyes.

"What do you mean in good time? When the "good time" comes they could all regroup!"

"They wont though, the followers are all lost without her dictatorship."

The old woman sighed rubbing her temples; this conversation was enough to age her five years, which was the last thing professor Grant needed.

"Go and celebrate a little Holly; we've won for now and now is enough of a reason to rejoice."

"I can't. Not with George and Margaret dead." The old woman sighed, "Do you want me to look after the little girl?"

"No. She needs to go with her grandparents." The headmaster said quietly.

"Not those awful people Melvin, you know how they treated George and Patrick-"

"It will be done; for her saftey. She needs a place away from all of this while our world heals."

"I just want her to know what her parents stood for; what she will stand for."

"And she will... In her own good time."

Avery came out holding the limp toddler in his arms. Maddock pulled out his wand and started the healing spells on the small girl, "The bomb left a trace but I don;t believe it is anything harmful. Her hair however will always be that nice color." he said pointing to the bright orange locks on her head.

Avery held the girl in his arms until the headmaster took her gently. He vanished into the night to take her to the most ordinary people he would ever meet in his lifetime.